


Breathe You in like Smoke

by aliatori



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, BDSM, Dom!Nyx, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Frottage, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, Leashes, Leather Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sub!Gladio, Threesome, Voyeurism, and then there's Cor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 03:51:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18024128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliatori/pseuds/aliatori
Summary: “You good?” Nyx asks, eyes taking on a sudden sharpness.Good?Good?“Depends on your definition,” Gladio croaks hoarsely.Gladio and Nyx attend a kink party—and it's leather night.





	Breathe You in like Smoke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roadsoftrial](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadsoftrial/gifts).



> a big thank you to [Xylianna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xylianna/pseuds/Xylianna) for her beta attentions—all remaining errors are mine
> 
> a very late entry for day 7 of Gladio Rarepair Week, for the prompt of leather

Attending leather night at one of Insomnia’s elite kink parties isn’t something Gladio ever saw himself doing, but now that he’s here, a combination of excitement and adrenaline courses through his veins, all of his senses heightened by the mixture.

The fact that Nyx is slowly, carefully undressing him in the lounge area of the building’s luxurious washrooms might have something to do with his excitement, too.

“Six,” Nyx breathes, stroking Gladio’s chest from neck to navel with one leather-clad palm. He hasn’t bothered to take off his riding gloves, which hints at an eagerness that delights Gladio. He continues in a louder voice, “you look even better than I thought you would, which is hard, because this has been wet dream fuel for a couple months at _least_.”

Gladio chuckles. “Good to know. Wait ‘til you see the bottom half.”

Nyx pauses and fingers one of the long straps running down either side of Gladio’s chest, straps that follow the lines of his hip bones and disappear beneath his jeans, part of a full body leather harness they picked out together specifically for tonight.

“Cock strap?” Nyx asks, one eyebrow lifted in question.

“Why don’t you find out?” Gladio says, voice dipping into a lower pitch, the first flickers of desire heating low in his belly.

“I intend to,” Nyx says, taking a moment to remove his gloves and toss them aside before working at the button of Gladio’s jeans. 

His breath comes a little quicker as Nyx unzips Gladio’s jeans and tugs them down. Gladio’d taken his boots off once they were in what served as a change room, so it’s easy enough for Nyx to kneel as he nudges the thick denim of Gladio’s pants down his legs, following the clothing with his body itself. Gladio kicks the jeans aside once they’re pooled at his ankles, and then his breath _does_ hitch as Nyx leans in and nuzzles at his crotch; if he wasn’t already half hard from the friction of a leather ring tugging at his dick with every step, Nyx’s lips against his cock through the fabric of his boxer-briefs seals the deal.

“How are you,” Nyx says, breaking off to press a few more chaste kisses to Gladio’s thighs, his hands gripping the back of them, “so fucking sexy?”

“Constantly busting my ass and a strict diet,” Gladio answers, fondly stroking Nyx’s hair as he kneels in front of him. He applies the _slightest_ hint of pressure, urging Nyx forward, relishing in the contact… while he still can.

“Literal asshole. I’m trying to compliment you,” Nyx says, but there’s no malice in the barb, only his typical teasing.

Gladio has no time to prepare for Nyx’s sudden pull at the elastic waistband of his boxer-briefs, yanking them down in one smooth motion, exposing the leather cockstraps that connect to the rest of the harness and his half-hard dick. He’s extremely gratified by the choked noise Nyx makes while still kneeling in front of him, which he tries (badly) to disguise with a cough. Nyx is nothing if not agile, mentally and physically, so by the time his gaze flicks up to Gladio, all that’s left is lust and a knowing, familiar possessiveness that makes Gladio’s cock twitch in its restraints.

“Shiva’s tits,” Nyx swears, and any hint of reservation Gladio had about what’s going down tonight burns away in a flare of want and pride. “It’s like you were made for this. I’m the luckiest man here tonight.”

“Sounds about right,” Gladio agrees. “If you felt like showing a little appreciation…” Gladio waves a hand in the general direction of his dick and squeezes Nyx’s shoulder with the other.

Nyx’s answering laugh is dark and delightful. He’s one of the most relaxed Doms Gladio’s had the pleasure of playing with—even discounting the fact that they were dating before doing any kink scenes—but the surest way to get a little bite out of him is to presume on his attentions. 

“Oh, you’ll get appreciation, alright… once you’ve earned it,” Nyx declares. He stands and takes a step closer to Gladio, all pride, and shoves a hand between their bodies, wrapping his hand around Gladio’s dick and lazily fondling it. “But all of you belongs to me tonight, especially this,” he purrs, squeezing Gladio’s cock lightly for emphasis. “You ready for your leash?”

Gladio’s heart gives a single, forceful pound at the question, and his hips rut into Nyx’s hand of their own accord. “Yeah.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please,” Gladio says through gritted teeth, equal parts aroused and embarrassed that he already has to beg.

Then again, that’s part of the fun.

“Good boy.” Nyx leans in and brushes a kiss against Gladio’s cheek at the same time he gives Gladio’s cock a final squeeze. “Why don’t you kneel while I get ready? You already look so fucking good on your knees, and I bet you look even better while you’re wearing that harness.”

Part of the long negotiation prior to tonight means that until Gladio has the leash— _his_ leash—on, he doesn’t _have_ to obey any of Nyx’s commands; though its posed as a question, Nyx’s tone light and airy, there’s no mistaking his words for a command. 

He sinks to his knees anyway, wrists crossed behind his back, cock hard and hanging between his legs, half-supported by the leather strap around it.

“ _Very_ good boy,” Nyx repeats, chucking Gladio fondly under the chin, and Gladio loves the way his face burns at the praise.

Nyx didn’t say he couldn’t watch—he rarely does, given that he loves attention almost as much as Gladio does—so Gladio openly stares as Nyx takes off his riding outfit piece by piece. First goes the leather bomber jacket, neatly folded and tucked in the duffel bag Nyx brought with him for their belongings. Next goes the shirt, and Nyx actually _pauses_ to make sure Gladio’s eyes are on him as he peels off the vintage tee, some underground Insomnian band logo on the front. His mouth goes dry as he takes in the Tenebraen top harness Nyx wears underneath the shirt, thick black leather straps with silver hardware spanning the length of his chest, a horizontal strap around his ribs and a ‘Y’ shape around either side of his shoulders. On another night, Gladio would perform mythological feats to have Nyx on his hands and knees in that gear, with a matching gag in his mouth… but its not in the cards tonight.

“You like?” Nyx asks, lips curving in a sly smile.

“Yeah,” Gladio says, his cock jumping against his thigh. It’s going to be a _long_ night.

“Me too. Got it right after we got yours, but I wanted to surprise you,” Nyx explains. 

Some surprise, Gladio thinks. Nyx is all lean muscle, a stark counterpoint to Gladio’s obvious, chiseled bulk, but the way the leather straps perfectly hug Nyx’s scarred skin makes Gladio’s mouth water. He continues watching as Nyx packs Gladio’s clothes in the bag, taking his sweet ass time about it, probably intentionally. It gives Gladio a nice view of Nyx’s back and the line of leather covering half his spine, plunging down the length of him until it meets the horizontal leather straps of his Tenebraen harness.

His heart starts and stops when Nyx pulls out a very familiar leash from the bag.

“Boots on first. Unless you want to walk around barefoot. Your call, really,” Nyx says, letting the leash dangle from his hand, a tantalizing reminder of how the evening is going to play out.

After a few moments of thought, Gladio decides he wants the boots, if only to complete the _look_ he’s going for—he’s not gonna half ass it now. Under Nyx’s watchful gaze, he pulls his socks and boots back on, feeling the leather strap of his back harness slide between his asscheeks as he laces up his boots. He wishes fleetingly that the cock strap was tight enough to function as a cock ring, because it’s going to take all his self control not to come before Nyx says he can tonight. Another part of their negotiation. Once he finishes, he stands, his head slightly bowed at he presents himself for Nyx’s assessment.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Nyx praises, stepping close to Gladio and standing on his tiptoes to place a few kisses on Gladio’s neck. When his hands meander over the sculpted muscles around his backstrap, Gladio tenses. “What happens when I put this leash on you?”

“I’m yours,” Gladio responds automatically, bending down and touching his forehead to Nyx’s.

“That’s right.” The clink of metal against metal is subtle, but the pull Nyx gives on the leash once he hooks it to the d-ring between Gladio’s shoulders is not. The brush of his lips against the shell of Gladio’s ear streaks through him like lightning. “Look up at the mirror for me, baby.”

Gladio does.

It’s a hell of a sight. Nyx shaved the sides of his head down the night before, and though he suspects it won’t last, he’s styled his hair into the sweeping points he’s taken a liking to. He’s spent a lot of time honing every inch of his body and has never been shy about taking pride in it, but he likes the starkness of the harness framing his muscle, the black leather of the straps accentuating the tattoos on his arms, back, and legs. What he likes even _more_ is Nyx’s dark, possessive gaze meeting his in the mirror, one paler hand splayed low on Gladio’s belly, the other holding the end of a leash in one fist. 

“Ready?”

“Of course.”

After shouldering his modest duffel bag, Nyx starts heading for the exit of the washroom/change room, the leash short enough that Gladio feels the pull after a handful of steps. Gladio follows for any number of reasons: because Nyx asked it of him, because he trusts Nyx, because at the end of the day or night, he knows Nyx has his best interests at heart, that he will give him what he wants and needs no matter the circumstances.

It doesn’t make it any less daunting when they exit the washroom to the crowded club. A rush of adrenaline floods Gladio’s veins. He knows he has absolutely no reason to be ashamed of his body, and he _definitely_ knows he has no reason to be ashamed of the man leading him around on a leash, so he draws himself up to his full height and smirks, leaning into his usual confidence. He can feel eyes on him as soon as Nyx guides him through one of the club’s main thoroughfares, and he starts to get hard again, the feeling of exposure adding to his desire. 

His eyes scan the crowd as Nyx leads him through throngs of people, most of them decked to the nines in leather themselves. One of the nice things about choosing a theme night for this is standing out less, though Gladio logically knows there’s no way he _doesn’t_ stand out, not with the Amicitia tattoo inked on his skin and the six feet, six inches of bulk and muscle he carries. Nyx, for his part, doesn’t seem too concerned about it, just guides him casually through crowds as though no one is paying them any mind—which they might be. Gladio’s gaze lingers on a tall, curvaceous woman sauntering through the party; his eyes drift down to the leather thong barely covering her pussy, decorated with a tiny ribbon and framed by a purple harness.

A jerk on his leash forces Gladio’s attention back to Nyx. “You want a drink?” Nyx asks with a too-innocent grin.

“Depends,” Gladio answers honestly, “on what you want to do later.” He’s well aware several tools for impact play are tucked in Nyx’s magic bag along with other supplies.

“That’s a good question…” Nyx begins, his hands roaming all over Gladio’s body in a comfortable, possessive display, pausing only to squeeze one of Gladio’s pecs. “Unless you want it, I don’t feel like beating you today.”

Gladio dips his head and grins to himself, determined not to let Nyx see too much of his pleasure. He’s playing sub tonight and a certain amount of deference is expected, but no point in inflating Nyx’s ego anymore than it already is. “Then a drink sounds great, _sir._ ”

Nyx might not be one for a lot of the formal trappings of the kink scene, but Gladio knows exactly what being addressed as ‘sir’ does to Nyx… and by extension, what it might get him.

It’s an obvious play and it works.

Black swallows the slate blue of Nyx’s eyes as he tilts his chin up and makes prolonged eye contact with Gladio, steady and intense. “You know, I think I changed my mind. I’m not thirsty after all.” He cuts away, scanning the room in quick, efficient motions, the assessment of a Dom who happens to be Kingsglaive trained and tried. The only indication Gladio gets to follow is the hard yank on his leash; if Gladio were smaller or less aware, it might have caused him to lose his balance.

His pulse kicks into overdrive when he realizes Nyx is leading him right to the centre of the room they’re in, taking up position by one of pillars supporting the ceiling. Nyx positions them so the pillar doesn’t provide any cover from the majority of partygoers, putting his back to it and facing one of the lounge areas. Only then does he look at Gladio.

“On your knees.”

Gladio lowers his body down to the floor in one smooth, swift motion. His cock stirs to hardness one more as Nyx threads a hand through his unbound hair, nails scratching pleasantly against his scalp. The leather strap slides between his asscheeks as he settles into as comfortable a position as he’s getting, palms resting flat against the tops of his thighs.

In an instant, Nyx’s touch turns from tender to sharp, tugging Gladio forward by the hair and pressing his face against his crotch insistently. Gladio gasps, the sound muffled by the thick leather of Nyx’s pants, his hard-on obvious despite the layer of separation. Nyx gives a single roll of his hips, grinding his crotch against Gladio’s face before jerking it backwards again and letting his hand slide from Gladio’s hair.

“You’re the one who wanted an audience tonight. I think you know what to do,” Nyx suggests, his casual tone carefully calculated for maximum effect. Gladio feels a drop of precome well up from the tip of his dick as Nyx unbuttons and unzips himself, gently freeing his cock with one callused hand in the process.

Gladio hesitates for a moment—out of his peripheral vision, he can see a cluster of partygoers watching from afar as they chat amongst themselves. His chest and neck heat with the welcome, familiar burn of excitement commingled with a touch of embarrassment. He loves sucking Nyx off, and he _had_ asked for this, but the reality of fucking in public threatens to overwhelm him for a moment. His pulse beats so hard it drowns out the faint, generic, bass heavy music piping through the club.

“If I have to ask again, baby, you might get that beating after all,” Nyx croons to Gladio, framing his bearded jaw between thumb and forefinger before flicking own chin down towards his crotch. “Give me your safeword or get to work.”

The thought of Nyx flogging the shit out of him is _almost_ enough to make him disobey.

Almost.

Gladio leans forward, parts his lips, flattens his tongue, and swallows Nyx’s cock to the hilt in one (if he says so himself) beautiful slide.

Nyx gives a soft, satisfied groan. “Fuck yeah, just like that,” he says, cupping the back of Gladio’s head with his free hand, leash dangling slack from the other. “You’re so damn good at this.”

There’s not much room for conversation on Gladio’s end, not as he fills his mouth with Nyx’s cock over and over again in slow, deliberate slides, throat already feeling a touch raw. The words of praise make a sweet, sharp ache thrum low in his belly. As Gladio draws back, he pauses with his lips framing the head of Nyx’s cock and glances up, amber eyes wide.

“I’ve never met anyone as proud of giving head as you. Look at you,” Nyx murmurs, trailing his knuckles down one side of Gladio’s cheek. “Blown out eyes, lips swollen already, cock leaking and making a mess all over this nice floor. Didn’t think I’d have to clean up after you this early.”

Gladio’s flush spreads up his chest, along his neck, and floods his cheeks at Nyx’s words. Anything else Nyx might have added dissolves in a quiet moan as Gladio starts to eagerly suck his dick again, speeding up and being a little sloppy, slick sounds accompanying each bob of his head as he drools around Nyx’s cock. A quick glance upward shows Nyx having wound Gladio’s leash around his wrist loosely, pinching and toying with one pierced nipple beneath his own leather harness.

“I wanna hear you choke on that dick. Can you do that for me, pet? Show everyone watching how good you are for me?” Nyx asks, voice a touch strained with pleasure.

He _can_ do that, and does, enthusiastically. If his throat was starting to feel raw before, it definitely is now, but Gladio doesn’t give a shit. All that matters to him is taking Nyx’s entire cock in his mouth and throat each time, over and over, making an involuntary guttural noise each time the swollen head pushes against the back of his throat. It’s all he can do to remember to breathe as he works, his satisfaction mounting higher with each grunt and gasp he elicits from Nyx. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, a tiny rebellion of his gag reflex as he happily accommodates the thick length and girth of Nyx’s cock.

“Hey, Marshal!”

Gladio chokes on Nyx’s dick in earnest at the words. In his panic, he barely manages to cover his teeth with his lips as he withdraws from Nyx, heart hammering frantically in his chest as he coughs and catches his breath.

Nyx, damn him, looks more amused than anything, even with a boner hanging out of his pants in the middle of a fairly crowded room. “What? Don’t you want to say hi to the Marshal? Would be kind of rude not to.”

“Don’t fuck with me like—” Gladio starts, words dying in his aching throat as he sees the Marshal crossing the room to Nyx, steps measured and calm.

Holy shit. 

It’s not like he hasn’t fantasized about this… well, since his hormones kicked in and he figured out he was playing for both teams. Gladio can’t count the number of times he’s jacked off to the thought of Cor fucking him senseless, usually imagining being pressed face down, ass up on the mats of the training room, though being bent over in the locker room showers is another favourite. The fact that Cor is actually _here_ though, in reality, getting closer and closer to Gladio on his knees in nothing but an expensive leather harness…

“You good?” Nyx asks, eyes taking on a sudden sharpness.

Good? _Good?_

“Depends on your definition,” Gladio croaks hoarsely. If he thought he was embarrassed at the idea of strangers watching him, the fact that Cor Leonis has seen him sucking the cock of one of his subordinates blows the concept away. His skin feels like it’s self-immolating. The only thing that comes close to the sensation is the time Noct accidentally _lit him on literal fire_ during a sparring session.

“I expect your safeword if anything is too much. Otherwise… let me do the talking,” Nyx murmurs to him, giving his hair and cheek a single stroke before turning his attention to Cor.

“Ulric,” Cor says, tone devoid of anything that might give his thoughts away. “Why do I always find you making yourself the centre of attention at these?” Cor glances down with those icy blue eyes at Gladio, expression betraying nothing. He gives Gladio a cursory sweep from head to toe, gaze lingering on the leash in Nyx’s hand, and then turns to Nyx again.

“Call it a natural talent, I guess,” Nyx answers with a grin. The grin takes on a wicked edge as he looks down at Gladio. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Gladio’s heart stops for an eternity in miniature. Does Nyx really expect him to suck his dick while he carries on a conversation with the second highest ranking member of the Crownsguard _and_ their boss? He considers safewording, if only to move somewhere out of Cor’s range.

“That sounded like an order, Gladio.” Cor’s words are smooth and even as always, but unlike Nyx’s commands, there isn’t even a hint of give or suggestion to it. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“Sir,” Gladio says through clenched teeth, the world dissolving in a tide of desire. He’s not quite sure if he’s addressing Nyx, Cor, or both. Either way, he leans in and takes Nyx’s semi in his mouth, suckling at it, relishing in both the feel of Nyx growing hard between his lips and Cor’s piercing gaze on the back of his neck.

“See, this—” Nyx falters as Gladio tongues at his slit and gives a breathless little laugh. “This is why I never let you around my subs when I’m trying to top. You’re like magicite to anyone with a submissive bone in their body.”

Cor gives an honest-to-Six chuckle, low and hot; Gladio’s body responds on its own, sucking on Nyx more deeply, more eagerly. “Imagine being frustrated with someone’s lack of discipline,” he deadpans. “The horror.”

“Never said I was frustrated. It’s part of the fun, really,” Nyx says noncommittally, bucking his hips and shoving his cock further down Gladio’s throat. “Speaking of rules, where’s your leather, Marshal? They make an exception for you tonight?”

Gladio tilts his face upwards to get a better view of the exchange, every nerve in his body alight with a delightful mixture of want and shame, but as soon as he does, Nyx gives his leash a _hard_ yank, causing him to stagger where he kneels. 

“We’re not all anonymous army grunts, Ulric,” Cor says wryly. “A leather arm cuff counts as leather.”

“Ah, I see. So you’re just here to admire the eye candy, then?” Nyx asks.

“Not the way I’d phrase it, but close enough. It’s been a long month.”

Just as Gladio’s falling into a rhythm again, slowly and steadily licking and sucking at Nyx’s cock, Nyx upends his world again. There’s a tug at his back, and when Gladio flicks his gaze upward, he catches sight of Nyx extending a hand to Cor, leash trailing from it.

“Mind holding this for a minute?”

Cor accepts the looped handle wordlessly, a slight tilt to his head as he subjects Gladio to another round of intense scrutiny. His cock throbs and twitches under Cor’s regard; his boner had flagged during his initial panic, but now it swells between his thighs, and just as he lifts his head to return Cor’s stare, a pair of familiar hands frames his face and urges it in a different direction.

“Do you want to show the Marshal how much you love sucking cock?” Nyx lifts an eyebrow and sweeps a strand of Gladio’s hair away from his face. “How much you love getting your face fucked?”

Thanks to the internet and a fair amount of personal experience, Gladio’s heard a hundred descriptions of what sliding into subspace feels like: being high, getting drunk, drowning, flying, burning, you name it. It’s harder for him to get to that place, but when he does, the best way _he_ can describe it is a single word.

Surrender.

“Please,” Gladio begs.

He doesn’t care about being on his knees in the middle of a room full of strangers, he doesn’t even care about Cor standing above him and holding his leash—beyond a searing desire that threatens to burn him from the inside out at the thought of the Marshal watching. His pride dissolves in the wake of his need, his ego erased and substituted with a single desire: pleasing Nyx.

“See, Marshal,” Nyx says lovingly, grazing a thumb along Gladio’s cheekbone with one hand and slowly feeding Gladio his cock with the other, the head nudging past his lips, “your way might get you discipline, but my way gets you _this_. Trust. Complete and utter.”

Gladio has exactly enough time to gulp in a lungful of air before Nyx begins to fuck his mouth and throat, his hands holding Gladio utterly still as his hips cant forward.

Sensations bubble up to the forefront of Gladio’s consciousness and pop in powerful bursts. The salt of Nyx’s precome on the back of his tongue. The slight ache in his jaw from holding his mouth wide open. The loop of leather teasing the base of his cock. The short, staccato pants from Nyx as he uses Gladio’s mouth like a toy. The paradoxical heat of Cor’s cool, steel blue eyes raking down Gladio’s side like voretooth claws. The faint urge to touch himself, to fuck his fist until he spills his come all over the lounge floor, held at bay only by virtue of Gladio’s discipline.

Nyx starts to move faster, harder, and it’s all Gladio can do to cling to any shred of composure he has left, spit trickling from his lips in a steady stream. The humiliation of his boyfriend fucking his face in front of one of the highest ranking members of the Lucian military has faded to the back of his mind with the rest of his day to day concerns. All that matters now is doing what Nyx wants, because Nyx always takes care of him.

Always.

Gladio inhales deeply through his nose and moans around Nyx’s cock, finally opening his eyes and glancing up, begging Nyx silently to use him, to fill his mouth and throat with come, to show Gladio just how good a job he’s doing. When Nyx’s eyes latch onto his, Nyx hisses, slowing his pace considerably before letting his dick slip out of Gladio’s mouth.

The frustrated groan Gladio gives is nothing short of lewd.

“Good boy,” Nyx cooes, sweeping his thumb across Gladio’s lips and taking some of the excess saliva with it. “So good for me, so perfect.”

The words reassure the part of Gladio’s pride rankled by Nyx pulling away so soon, and he grins, dimly aware of how blissed out his features must look. He loves this space, the one where he doesn’t have to think, just do.

“Marshal? You want a turn? If he’s anything like me, he’s probably been dreaming of the chance to get your cock in his mouth for a while,” Nyx offers, lazily making a fist around his cock and giving it a few pumps.

Were Gladio in a different headspace, he’d have a few choice words for Nyx for the assumption—namely ‘fuck’ and ‘you’ and ‘Ulric’—but the only thing that resonates through him is the truth of the words. He does wonder why Cor is still here; he can’t imagine a universe where Cor is interested in fucking him, even as a casual thing, despite how much he wants it.

Except…

Except there’s a _definite_ bulge in Cor’s dark washed jeans, and the cast to his steely gaze can only be called hungry as he hands Gladio’s leash back to Nyx. When Cor makes full eye contact with Gladio, he can’t stop the whine that escapes from the back of his throat, the exchange like a match on the gasoline of his desire.

The last thing Gladio expects Cor to do is unbutton his jeans, unzip them, and push his underwear down just enough to free his cock, taking a step towards Gladio to close the distance between them, but that’s exactly what he does. His dick is thicker than Nyx’s, uncut, and hard as steel from Gladio’s vantage point. Cor holds himself by the base and brings the head of his cock a hair’s breadth away from Gladio’s lips.

This is better than every single fantasy he’s ever had.

“Is Ulric correct? This is what you want?” Cor asks, resting the tip of his cock feather-light against Gladio’s lower lip.

He’s about to open his mouth, to present it for Cor’s use, when a strong and steady pull on his leash causes the leather straps of his harness to dig painfully into his skin.

“Not until I say,” Nyx growls, dark and delightful.

Gladio grunts, vexed, keyed up beyond imagination. “ _Sir_ ,” he pleads, and Cor’s sharp inhale at the title is covered by Nyx’s quiet groan.

“ _Fuck_ , that’s it, baby, that’s what I wanted to hear,” Nyx murmurs, squeezing Gladio’s shoulder affectionately and letting the leash go slack. “Go ahead,” he adds, jerking his head towards Cor.

Gladio parts his lips and surges forward, taking most of Cor’s dick in his mouth on the first pass, exploring the hot, velvet skin stretched taut around his cock with tongue, mapping out the differences between his and Nyx’s. As he begins to bob his head up and down in an eager rhythm, Cor places a hand on the side of his neck, a hand with rough calluses he’s only felt in passing during weapons training.

“Slower.” There’s a hoarseness to Cor’s voice Gladio has never heard before, but there’s no mistaking it for a command.

Somewhere behind Gladio, Nyx chuckles. “Six, no wonder you stayed to watch. This is going to round out the top ten fantasies for nights alone, no contest. He’s even more of a cockslut than usual with you.”

Aside from a huffed out breath that might count as a laugh, Cor doesn’t respond, his eyes locked to Gladio’s, pupils blown out so barely a shaving of blue remains. If you don’t count the measured blinks he forces himself to take, Gladio can’t look away, devouring every minute reaction of Cor’s like a starving man would a feast. 

Gladio traces an obvious vein on the underside of Cor’s dick with the tip of his tongue, a hint of his usual rebelliousness coming out in how slowly he does it. When he reaches the head of Cor’s cock, he takes it between his lips and suckles at it with gentle, rhythmic pulses, each salty droplet he licks away causing one to leak from his dick in response. The dark expression in Cor’s eyes gains a deeper level of shadow, sending a shiver of anticipation racing along Gladio’s skin.

Cor, unlike Nyx, doesn’t ask to fuck Gladio’s face, doesn’t give him any warning at all. Gladio chokes around Cor’s cock as he thrusts into Gladio’s mouth with a smooth, even swing of his hips. Also unlike Nyx, he doesn’t hold Gladio still. The look in his eyes demands perfect obedience, and Gladio is suddenly in the mood to obey.

“He can take more,” Nyx says. “Don’t be shy, Marshal.”

Gladio moans his agreement around Cor’s shaft, wanton and loud.

He shouldn’t feel as much of a thrill as he does when Cor goes faster, hips pistoning forward, motions as controlled as the Marshal is about everything Gladio’s ever seen him do. Still, each time their eyes meet, it’s like looking into a mirror, their desires reflected in the other. It’s an abstract thought to have while on his knees at a kink party, but Gladio thinks it nonetheless, drunk on endorphins and adrenaline. Sometime soon he’d _really_ like to give his aching, neglected dick some attention, but given that he’s acting out one of his most secret fantasies, sucking off his longtime mentor, he wouldn’t trust himself not to come on the first stroke.

A sharp jerk of the leash draws him back to the present. A hand he recognizes as Nyx slides down his shoulder to squeeze his pec again, snapping the leather strap against it before letting go of him.

“Don’t enjoy this too much,” Nyx warns with impish delight. “You’re still mine tonight.”

Gladio moans around Cor again, louder this time, face flushed with effort and humiliation and desire alike. Cor picks up the pace again, fucking his face faster, his own breaths finally becoming audible, heavy on the inhale and exhale, and Gladio doesn’t think he’s imagining the sheen of sweat on Cor’s muscled forearms. He _knows_ he doesn’t imagine the way Cor swells in his mouth, the way his cock dribbles a steady, salty stream along Gladio’s tongue, jumping and twitching in his mouth.

The Marshal is _close._

“Stop.”

Ragged though the word is, Gladio has spent most of his career obeying orders from Cor regardless of the circumstance, so he withdraws from Cor, lips swollen and jaw aching. As he begins to sit back on his ankles, there’s a sharp, _hard_ slap on his ass courtesy of Nyx, stinging enough that he can imagine the handprint.

“That’s for listening to the Marshal faster than you listen to me,” Nyx chides playfully. To Cor, he continues, “you sure you don’t want to keep going? I mean, look at him. He’s definitely not complaining?” The more familiar blue gaze, the one he’s met a hundred million times, drifts back down to Gladio. “Are you, gorgeous?”

Gladio shakes his head; he fears if he speaks aloud, his voice will tremble like his body is starting to.

The deep rise and fall of Cor’s chest—and his flushed cock bobbing where its braced between thumb and forefinger—are the only indicators of strain Gladio can see. He uses the pause to study Cor more closely. It’s almost more wild to see Cor in his version of casual dress, though the plain tee is still Lucian black and the jeans are nothing remarkable, than it is to have just sucked him off.

“Gladio’s always enjoyed having his limits tested. He can handle both of us.”

If it weren’t for the warm sting still flooding one asscheek, Gladio would swear he’s dreaming. He glances up at Nyx in a rare flare of uncertainty. 

“How does that sound, sexy?” Nyx asks, running a hand along the length of Gladio’s shoulders soothingly. “I think it’d be pretty fucking hot, but you’re allowed to use your safeword too.” While Nyx’s gaze is affectionate, there’s a layer of steel behind it, a layer Gladio has seen when he’s pushed himself too hard and refused to safeword.

As unreal as all this is, raw, chemical desire mixed with trust in Nyx makes his decision easy. He knew what he was getting into when they agreed to play here together tonight.

“Yeah,” Gladio says, directing the best challenging stare he can muster at Cor, “I _can_ handle both of you.” Through his peripheral, Gladio notices the number of onlookers growing, but there are only two pairs of eyes that matter to him.

And more importantly, two cocks, one of which—Nyx’s—is at his lips again. Nyx gives a breathy, satisfied sigh as Gladio licks at his shaft in long, steady passes. “No one gives better head than you. I don’t know how the fuck you do it, but I love it. And you.”

When Gladio begins to suck on Nyx in earnest, hollowing his cheeks around Nyx’s shaft, Cor chooses that moment to take a step closer and drag his dick down Gladio’s bearded cheek, leaving a barely perceptible trail of wetness behind it and eliciting a muffled groan from Gladio. The groan goes louder when Cor slaps his dick against Gladio’s cheek several times in rapid succession.

“Sometime today would be good, Ulric,” Cor says, threading a hand in Gladio’s hair and gripping tightly, though not tight enough to hurt. He starts to control the movement of Gladio’s head, guiding him up and down Nyx’s dick without so much as a word, and Gladio moans helplessly.

“My sub… _ah_ , shit, Gladio, yeah, your mouth feels so fucking good… my rules, Marshal. I see you still have control issues.”

“And I see you still never stop talking.”

“Only when someone makes me.”

Though Gladio hears the conversation above him, he’s lost back in the space of surrender, concentrating on the task at hand and aided along by Cor. He risks a glance up as he draws away from Nyx and sees him exchanging a heated kiss with the Marshal, catching a flash of tongue when Cor threads his other hand through Nyx’s hair. It’s… scorching hot, and bothers Gladio less than he thought it might. They’d okayed playing with other people tonight if it felt right, but he never expected that to include Nyx making out with the Marshal while Gladio’s mouth is full of his dick.

The distraction must be the reason that Cor’s grip on Gladio goes slack, and he uses it to his advantage to switch his attention to Cor, swallowing him down again. Nyx heaves on his leash, but it doesn’t deter Gladio, only prompts him to maintain eye contact with Nyx as he buries his face in Cor’s crotch and laps at his balls.

“I dress you up pretty and take you out for the night and this is the thanks I get,” Nyx chides, touching himself as his attention shifts between Gladio and Cor. “Nah, you know, I can’t even complain.”

“A miracle,” Cor deadpans. Despite his flat tone, he tightens his hold on Gladio’s hair again, guiding him to his dick and urging it past Gladio’s lips. He controls Gladio like this for a while, setting a pace much more calm than their previous exchange.

As Gladio loses more and more of himself in the pleasure of being used, of serving, he quiets, content to alternate between Nyx and Cor, sucking and licking and swallowing both of them down with equal enthusiasm. He’s lost all sense of time tonight, but judging from the pleasant ache in his groin, jaw, and knees, he works for quite a while under two watchful gazes.

“Okay, okay,” Nyx says, the words coming out as a shuddering rush as he steps back from Gladio, “I think that’s enough for now.” 

Contrary to what his earlier punishment would suggest, Gladio obeys him instantly, sitting back on his ankles, the stiff leather of his combat boots digging into his ass. He watches as Nyx, after finishing zipping his pants back up, shares a long look with Cor, a message passing between them that Gladio can’t quite parse.

“Sure you don’t wanna stick around a while longer?” Nyx asks.

“I’m sure,” Cor says with a snort. To illustrate his point, he’s already managed to tuck his hard on back in his jeans through force of will, though his eyes are the barest fraction of unfocused. “No wonder you’ve been keeping this a secret,” he adds.

“Less of a secret than you think,” Nyx explains, moving to stand beside Gladio and softly stroke his hair. Gladio leans into the touch, grateful for the chance to catch his breath and get his bearings. “This is only the third time we’ve gone public. We’ve been playing in private up until tonight. Figured this was as safe a place as we were going to get.”

“Speaking of going public, I’m counting on your discretion,” Cor says, composure already back in place, a feat that sends a faint pulse of admiration through Gladio.

“It’s going to be incredibly difficult not to brag about this, but you got it, Marshal. You know I’m good for it.”

Gladio’s eyes narrow as Cor grazes Nyx’s bicep with his palm, a touch far more intimate than he’s ever seen Cor bestow on anyone. “I do know.” Cor inclines his head ever so slightly in Gladio’s direction, and then makes his exit, cutting a clear path to the bar on the far side of the room.

Nyx beams at Gladio, his grin easy and sure. “Can you stand?”

“Think so.”

He has to lean on Nyx’s offered arm more than he likes in order to get to his feet, but he manages it, pushing through the trembling in his legs until it stops altogether. Immediately, Nyx draws him down into a deep, passionate kiss, cupping his bearded cheek in a palm, the leash still in the other. “You did so good for me, baby. Did you enjoy that?”

“I did, a lot,” Gladio admits, dropping his forehead to Nyx’s shoulder as he catches his breath. “Gonna make Monday morning a hell of a thing, though.”

Nyx laughs and begins to stroke his back up and down in soothing circles, his fingers teasing at the edges of Gladio’s leather harness along the way. “The Marshal’s a fortress. It’ll be fine.”

“You and him used to be an item?” Gladio asks. The tinge of jealousy bleeding through his chest has no right to be there, especially given how happy he was to be deep throating the very man in question not five minutes prior, but it’s there nonetheless.

“It’s been a while now. And I haven’t hooked up with him since we’ve been together,” Nyx answers, barking out a short laugh and adding, “until tonight, I guess. But that’s how you can believe me when I say it’ll be fine. He’s the reason I learned about this party, and it’s the only one with security tight enough to make attending a possibility.” He presses a kiss to Gladio’s cheek. “You still good to keep playing?”

“Still green,” Gladio confirms, lifting his head from Nyx’s shoulder. “Still yours.”

“Always,” Nyx agrees, planting a chaste kiss on Gladio’s lips. His smile takes on a decidedly sinful edge. “You’re so fucking perfect tonight, you know? I think you’ve earned a reward. Feel up to taking a little walk?”

At the word ‘reward’, Gladio’s cock stirs to new life where it rests heavy and flaccid against his thigh. “Of course, sir.”

Nyx collects the modest duffel bag from the floor and starts off down the corridor, behind the pillar they’d been playing against. Gladio would follow anyway, but with the leash he has no choice, and so he stays one step behind Nyx as they traverse the club, Nyx’s steps so sure that Gladio suspects he has a destination in mind.

It only takes a couple minutes until Nyx stops in front of a long, black leather—or maybe vinyl, Gladio has no fucking clue—couch and tosses his bag beside it. His stomach plummets as Nyx unhooks the leash from the back of Gladio’s harness, but it shoots back up into his throat when he clips it to the d-ring resting above his sternum.

“Need a different angle for what I have in mind,” Nyx explains, lifting his eyebrows, insufferably smug. “Now sit down and spread your legs,” he commands, voice husky as he points to the couch.

Gladio doesn’t need to be told twice.

It takes almost all the lead he has on the leash, but Gladio sits on the couch, leaning back against the surprisingly comfortable cushions, and parts his thighs, breath already coming faster. Nyx unzips the duffel bag and rummages around in it before settling between Gladio’s knees, not quite sitting and not quite kneeling.

“I haven’t fingered you in a while,” Nyx says idly, winding the leash around his wrist to free up both his hands. “But I recall very vividly what happened last time I did.” He undoes the clasp connecting Gladio’s cock strap to the backstrap in one dexterous motion, and Gladio’s dick twitches at the implications of what Nyx now has access to.

Gladio _also_ remembers what happened the last time Nyx fingered him. Nyx had stretched him out with four fingers and his thumb, slowly, persistently, filling his ass until Gladio was pleading and begging nonsensically, _then_ milked his prostate until he came untouched, coming so hard they’d had to clean it off the Six damned ceiling.

“I won’t last through that tonight,” Gladio admits.

“Believe me, I’m aware,” Nyx says gently, and Gladio gasps as he slides one lube-slick finger past into his ass without preamble, “but I bet it’ll still feel really fucking good.”

Any coherent thoughts Gladio might have had are lost to the smooth, steady rhythm of Nyx working a finger in and out of him. He catches glimpses of passersby, but for the most part the location Nyx selected is secluded, public in idea rather than actuality. Before he can lift his hips and urge Nyx for _more_ , Nyx has a second finger inside him, scissoring him slowly. He cups Gladio’s balls with the other hand, giving them a gentle tug, before sliding it back towards the sensitive space behind them and massaging in tiny, firm strokes.

“ _Nyx_ ,” Gladio pleads. He screws his eyes shut, the sight of Nyx and his stupid fucking handsome grin and his stupid leather harness only spiking his pleasure further, his neglected cock stiff and leaking between his legs. His bones liquify as Nyx adds a third finger, a helpless moan slipping past his lips.

“Look how nicely your hole is stretched around my fingers,” Nyx says, tone as reverential as it gets about anything. “I wasn’t asking,” he adds, dark and delightful, when Gladio stays still and panting.

It shouldn’t be as colossal of an effort as it is to tighten his core and lean forward. Once he moves, Nyx gently pushes his balls aside, leaving Gladio with an extraordinarily clear view of Nyx’s fingers shoved in his ass, his dick twitching at the sight. Nyx watches him like a hawk and presumably, once he’s certain he has Gladio’s attention, starts to move them back and forth, too slow to satisfy but just fast enough to tease.

“Gods, you’re so fucking stunning like this,” Nyx breathes, pressing a kiss to the weeping tip of Gladio’s cock. There’s a tug deep in Gladio’s belly at the liquid squelch of Nyx fucking him on his fingers, at the sensation of fullness in his ass, at the persistent pressure Nyx applies to his perineum; it’s a burning hook dragging him to one inevitable conclusion, pulling him closer to an edge he doesn’t want to tumble over.

Yet.

“I’m close,” Gladio growls, chasing Nyx’s fingers in direct opposition to his warning, upper body still curved in on itself at Nyx’s order. At this point, he’s desperate to be fucked on anything—fingers, tongue, cock, toy—to find relief. 

“You’ve held off through more than this,” Nyx chides, and then adds a fourth finger to Gladio’s ass, stretching his rim tight and taut around the girth of the digits. “I said you’d get a reward, but I haven’t forgotten you drooling all over the Marshal’s cock, either.” A firm thrust of his fingers punctuates the sentence and sends Gladio’s breath stuttering out of his lungs. “Yet. Lean back.”

Grateful for the reprieve of not having to _watch_ Nyx fuck him in addition to try to keep from coming, he collapses backwards. “Pot, kettle.” Speech is nearing impossibility.

“The difference is I’m not here as someone else’s tonight. I can’t even blame you, not really,” Nyx says airily, at odds with the way he fucks Gladio faster on his fingers, insistent, driving into him at a steady cadence. “I think I had my ass in the air for the Marshal faster than he could say ‘kneel’ the first time he fucked me.”

“You _can’t_ …” Gladio starts, the words breaking off in a near-sob of desire as Nyx adjusts his angle, firmly pressing against Gladio’s prostate with every thrust of his fingers. “You _cannot_ talk about Cor fucking you while… while doing _this_ and expect me not to bust a nut,” he protests, voice strained.

Nyx laughs, genuine amusement laced through the sound. “Tonight I get to do whatever I want, and that includes opening up your tight ass while I talk about how nice the Marshal’s cock felt in mine. I’ll admit I’m envious of his ability to inspire model behavior, even in bratty subs like you,” Nyx muses, bending down and licking the tip of Gladio’s cock clean of precome.

“Some reward,” Gladio grunts.

Nyx pauses, eyes flicking up to meet Gladio’s from where he’s curled between his knees, and the look is as electric as Lucian magic. He slowly, _slowly_ pushes his fingers in as far inside Gladio’s ass as they’ll go and keeps them there, watching as Gladio’s breath comes in jagged gasps. “You fucking _love_ this. The Marshal was right about one thing—you love a challenge. You can’t turn a challenge down even when it has a knife to your throat. Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll stop right now.”

“You’re right, you’re right, _please_ ,” Gladio says, begging with his eyes and his words, re-defining desperate with each passing second. “Please touch me so I can come,” he adds, softer, drawing in a tattered breath to still his pounding heart. “Like this, or fuck me, or whatever you want, but _please._ ”

Nyx smiles smugly, a smile that makes Gladio feel small in the very best way. “That’s what I thought.” He withdraws his fingers from Gladio, leaving him empty; the absence is a blessing and curse alike. “Don’t worry,” he soothes at the small, frustrated hum Gladio makes, tugging on the leash for emphasis, “I’m getting there.”

Since Gladio hasn’t been told to stand or adjust, he simply watches as Nyx rises from the floor and shimmies out of his pants and underwear, dropping them in the still open bag. His mouth waters at the sight of Nyx in nothing but his Tenebraen top harness, eyes roving over planes of lean muscle and faint scars, torn between his two favourite parts of Nyx’s body: his chest and his cock. He settles on the chest, admiring the definition of his abs, the muscle in his pecs, and the way the harness highlights both, hugging his body perfectly.

“Enjoying the view?” Nyx preens, flexing and causing more definition to ripple to life.

“I’d enjoy it better from up close,” Gladio suggests heatedly. Anything, including banter, helps to distract him from the persistent, deep throb of his cock. Gladio laces his hands, places them behind his head, and leans back.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Nyx says with a laugh. “I want one more thing from you first, though.”

As soon as he opens his mouth to ask what, Nyx turns around and gives Gladio two things: a very clear view of his magnificent, pert ass, and a very clear idea of what he wants. He’s got to hand it to Nyx. Once he takes a few steps backwards, he’s at the perfect height to give Gladio full, easy access to the aforementioned area.

“You’re _killing_ me,” Gladio growls, sitting up. Despite the protest, his mouth begins to water, and he risks running his hands up the backs of Nyx’s thighs for the pleasure of feeling the planes of hard, sculpted muscle beneath them.

Nyx jangles the leash still wrapped around his wrist. “I bet you won’t be so quick to agree to this in the future, will you?”

Instead of answering, Gladio parts Nyx’s cheeks, each globe fitting easily in his broad palms. He leans in and gives Nyx one long lick from the base of his balls all the way up to his entrance, which he flicks with his tongue, the motions light and teasing.

“If you want to come sometime this week, my expert advice would be to stop teasing,” Nyx says, a touch breathless.

At this point in the night, Gladio’s motivations have been reduced to one thing: a grave need to relieve the heat simmering all throughout his lower abdomen.

So he stops teasing.

He laves Nyx’s rim in thorough up and down strokes, applying as much pressure as he can muster with his tongue alone. The sharp gasp he elicits from Nyx only ratchets his own want higher. After giving Nyx’s ass a hard, long squeeze, he pushes his tongue past the tight, puckered resistance of his hole, sliding his tongue in and out.

“Oh fuck, oh _fuck_ , yeah, that feels so good,” Nyx says above him, sounding genuinely strung out for the first time tonight.

Gladio kneads the firm muscle of Nyx’s ass with his hands and moans against his hole, working more and more of his tongue in each time. In order to switch it up, Gladio occasionally stops and returns to licking the rim, wet and sloppy, then goes back to fucking him with his tongue, pushing it in as far as it can go each thrust. The longer he continues, the shakier Nyx’s breathing gets on each inhale, a fact Gladio notes with pride. He snakes one hand along the jut of Nyx’s hipbone, intent on stroking his cock at the same time, but as soon as he makes a fist around it, Nyx gives a shake of his head.

“Don’t,” he says, voice thick with desire, “unless you’re not keen on the idea of fucking soon.”

Gladio jerks his hand away as though burned. Another time, he might be embarrassed by Nyx’s quiet laugh, but after everything else tonight, it doesn’t register on his radar.

The Astrals have a sick sense of humor, however. As he’s about to continue his task of eating Nyx out, he catches sight of Cor, still standing a respectful distance from where Gladio sits. 

“Knew you couldn’t stay away, Marshal. You should have just—” Nyx teases, the words breaking off as Gladio shoves his tongue deep in Nyx’s ass, as far as it will go. “Just stayed.”

“I’m sure you’ll make me regret saying so, but you’re the most interesting people here tonight,” Cor says.

“That shouldn’t surprise you, since I’m always… always interesting,” Nyx counters, faltering a bit when Gladio grips Nyx’s asscheek hard enough to bruise.

Gladio hears the faint scoff from Cor but, as much as it pains him not to watch, continues lavishing attention on Nyx’s hole, though his efforts slow somewhat. 

“Will it be a problem if I watch?” Cor asks. Points for the Marshal’s consent game.

“I’m not sure.” Nyx looks over his shoulder and down at Gladio, cheeks a touch pink but grin no less roguish for it. “ _Will_ it be a problem if the Marshal watches?”

Shame, beautiful and welcome, flushes Gladio’s chest and neck at the thought of Cor across the sectional from them, thick cock peeking out from his fist as he jerks off to a semi-private show. Gladio finds he wants Cor to watch him receive his reward badly.

 _Very_ badly.

“It’s not a problem,” Gladio answers.

Nyx turns his back on Cor, who takes the opportunity to settle on the couch, several feet from where Nyx placed the duffel bag of their supplies for the night. The motion places his dick right in front of Gladio’s face, the head an angry red, and if Gladio wanted any proof of how turned on Nyx is, he has it.

“Is it ‘not a problem’,” Nyx challenges, going as far as to make air quotes, “or do you want me to show the Marshal you belong to me now?” He grabs Gladio’s chin and tilts his face up, less gentle than he usually is. “That I’m yours?”

After one sidelong glance at Cor, whose sits at ease, face impassive, Gladio makes eye contact with Nyx. “I want him to watch us fuck.” When Nyx’s grip tightens on Gladio’s jaw, he adds, “I want him to see what he’s missing out on. From both of us.”

“Damn. Well, no one’s ever said you aren’t honest,” Nyx says with a fond chuckle. He closes what little distance remains between them and straddles Gladio on the couch, winds his leash so there’s virtually no slack left, and swoops in for a kiss. 

This part of the evening is the most familiar to Gladio: the wet heat of Nyx’s mouth and tongue melded with his own, the love bites trailed down his neck and along his collarbone, the hands roaming over the muscle of his arms and chest. If he closes his eyes, he can _almost_ pretend they’re on the couch back at the otherwise empty Amicitia manor, indulging in distraction from a favourite movie.

The illusion dissolves as soon as Gladio opens his eyes again. He catches sight of Cor nearby, leisurely palming himself through his jeans, as though he has all the time in the world, radiating confidence.

Nyx tugs on his leash to get his attention. “Eyes on me, gorgeous. The Marshal can take care of himself, trust me.”

When Nyx reaches between them, holds their dicks together, and begins to rock his hips back and forth, Gladio makes a noise that’s barely human.

“Kiss him again,” Cor says, low and steady, though his hand moves faster along the bulge in his jeans, squeezing occasionally.

Gladio doesn’t know what startles him more—the Marshal’s voice or the fact that Nyx obeys him. After he speaks, each time Nyx rolls towards Gladio, he kisses him, sometimes just a brush of lips, sometimes a mess of tongue and teeth. As he moves faster, the urgency builds low in Gladio’s belly again, getting harder and harder to stave off each time.

“You gonna come if I keep doing this?” Nyx murmurs heatedly against Gladio’s lips, drinking him down deeply after.

Gladio nods, a touch too quickly for his pride. As Nyx grinds on him more slowly and loosens his grip on their cocks, Cor speaks again.

“He can take more,” Cor says, the edges of the syllables showing the first signs of wear and tear.

“Using my own words against me, Marshal? That’s low,” Nyx protests, but he speeds up again all the same, grinding quicker, their dicks sliding wet and slick against each other.

All Gladio can muster is a wordless protest, burying his face in Nyx’s shoulder and bracing his hands on Nyx’s thighs. He moans and pants into Nyx’s skin, clinging for dear life, praying to every Astral in Eos for the strength to hold off his impending climax.

“You… you hear those sounds, Marshal?” Nyx asks, breathless, hips still pursuing their relentless rhythm. “He makes those sounds for me all the time. The best ones are when I fuck him, when I put him on his hands and knees and fuck the sense out of him, but he loves this too… loves getting all overstimulated. Don’t you, gorgeous?”

He tries to answer, but all that comes out is a ragged breath, followed by a choked off moan as Nyx’s hips roll forward again.

“What about when he fucks you?” Cor asks. The words are even, but his voice has dropped half an octave, like gravel on steel. Gladio dares to steal a glance and has to bite his tongue _hard_ to keep from coming—Cor has his dick out and is jerking off, through the motions are controlled and indolent.

“Why don’t I give you a demonstration?” Nyx offers. Finally, _finally_ , he stops gliding their cocks together, and Gladio could weep with relief.

“Why don’t you?” Cor says. It is not a question.

As Nyx leans over to get something else from their shared bag, Gladio sinks into the couch cushions, every nerve in his body on fire as he comes back from the brink of orgasm. 

Slowly.

Too slowly, if Nyx is going to fuck him for real, which is what he suspects will happen, since he’s a contrary bastard even if it is the Marshal giving the orders. Whatever he has in mind, Gladio wants.

What he _doesn’t_ expect is Nyx to reappear with a condom and begin rolling it down Gladio’s cock.

Gladio sucks in a breath at the first touch of Nyx’s palm, a testament to how worked up he’s gotten over the past hour or two. Once he finishes rolling the condom on, the lube follows, and every perfunctory stroke sparks a shower of fireworks spraying behind Gladio’s eyelids.

Nyx scoots forward and braces one hand on Gladio’s shoulder, using the other to guide Gladio’s cock to his hole. He leans in for another kiss, which Gladio returns, though not as artfully as he otherwise might.

“Nyx…” Gladio says hoarsely once the tip of his dick presses against Nyx’s entrance. Anything else he might say disappears in a long, loud, unashamed moan as Nyx begins to sink down on his cock, slow and steady.

“ _Fuck_.” Cor adds a quiet expletive to the mix. Gladio’s inclined to agree.

“Six, I forgot how big you are,” Nyx hisses, eyes shut. He eases his way down another fraction of an inch, his rim impossibly tight around Gladio’s shaft. “ _Shitting Astrals.”_

He’s done this before, taken Gladio with no prep, citing a love for the stretch and burn of it as he slowly adjusts. At this point, Gladio sincerely believes he’s _trying_ to get him to come without permission, and all he can do is bite the inside of his cheek as Nyx lowers himself further.

“So tight,” Gladio pants, cradling Nyx’s hips in his hands, as much for an anchor point as for the pleasure of it.

“Damn right,” Nyx says, mostly containing the tremor. He lowers another fraction of the inch and gives a happy sigh. “Fuck, your cock is perfect. Your whole body is perfect,” he adds, devouring Gladio in a slow, sensual sweep of his eyes as he adjusts. “What did I do to deserve you? Such a good boyfriend. Such a good sub.”

Gladio buries his face in Nyx’s chest and tries to control his breathing, tasting a tinge of copper from when he bit his tongue earlier. “Not what you usually say.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not usually doing this with an audience, either.” Nyx laughs shakily and sinks further onto Gladio’s length. At this point, he’s about three fourths of the way to being fully seated, and it’s a supreme effort for Gladio not to give in to the urge to fill Nyx’s ass with come right then and there.

“Almost there, Ulric.” Cor isn’t helping, if ‘helping’ means keeping Gladio from coming too soon. It _especially_ isn’t helping that Gladio can hear the sound of skin on skin from where Cor is jacking off beside them.

Nyx finally gets his hips flush with Gladio’s, a quiver in his abs as he holds himself steady. “Look at me, baby?”

Gladio does.

Because the tight warmth of his dick fully inside Nyx’s ass isn’t enough, the _sight_ of Nyx makes his cock twitch and ache. Handsome as always, skin covered in a light sheen of sweat, and wearing nothing but an unbearably sexy leather harness… Gladio hips buck upwards involuntarily, chasing an orgasm he desperately craves. 

Nyx turns to Cor. “Come a little closer and feel how nice Gladio stretches me out,” he offers.

Cor’s hand slows on his cock before stopping altogether, eyes hungry amidst chiseled, neutral features. Gladio isn’t surprised this time when he moves closer, still leaving a foot of space between him and where Gladio and Nyx are joined. The breath is punched right out of his lungs as he feels Cor’s fingertips boldly trace a semi-circle around the point where Nyx’s rim and Gladio’s cock meet. 

“Nice, right?” Nyx prompts.

“Very,” Cor confirms. He withdraws and begins stroking his cock again, eyes locked on Gladio and Nyx.

“Alright, gorgeous, since this isn’t… isn’t going to take long for either of us,” Nyx says. He trails off and takes a deep breath, shifting experimentally. “And because you’ve been so perfect… how would you feel if the Marshal came on your face, when he’s ready? I won’t be able to, and I know how much you love getting made a mess of… and how much the Marshal loves making one.”

Gladio grinds his teeth so hard he worries they’ll chip, and again his hips chase Nyx’s heat, though he can’t get much leverage. “That… yeah, good,” he breathes. 

Nyx pulls him in by the leash, kisses him once, and then starts to move.

One thing becomes immediately clear—Nyx was right about this not lasting long. Nyx sets a fast pace right from the get go, lifting his ass almost off Gladio’s cock entirely before plunging back down to the base. He keeps a hand on Gladio’s shoulder to steady himself, but mostly uses his considerable core strength and stamina to his advantage. Gladio meets him halfway on each thrust, matching his pace, unable to stop himself from chasing the orgasm long denied him.

If the evening has been a marathon, this point is the final sprint. Gladio clings to Nyx like a lifeline, hands on his waist, urging him down harder and faster each time Nyx lowers his body. His whole body burns with want, and the spiral he’s avoiding circling down rises to meet him instead. 

At some point while Nyx rides him, Cor moves to brace himself beside Gladio with one knee on the back of the couch, posture relaxed and confident despite the gymnastics required. His girthy cock is flushed and leaking, and Cor’s fist moves in precise, rapid motions along his shaft.

Gladio fights down an urge to use his mouth and instead focuses on Nyx, on his swinging braid as he moves, his pink cheeks, his heaving chest.

“Nyx,” Gladio growls, desperate and ragged, drowning in the pleasure of Nyx’s body and the sight of Cor’s cock in his face, “Nyx, you gotta say—”

“Come for me.”

He surrenders to his body as he’s long since surrendered to Nyx. Every muscle in his body tenses for a powerful, painful instant before he comes, so hard that he doesn’t make a sound, just keeps a vice like grip on Nyx’s waist as his cock pulses over and over as he spills inside the condom, longer than he ever has before. 

He’s still recovering down from the intense wash of relief when Cor grabs his hair, turns his face towards his cock, and climaxes as well with a low grunt, ropes of thick release painting Gladio’s cheeks and lips and forehead. Gladio keeps his eyes half lidded as he watches Cor’s hand slow on his cock, his breath coming deep and ragged. When he’s finished, puts the tip of his dick against Gladio’s lips, and Gladio willingly licks him clean.

“Oh, _fuck_ , that does it,” Nyx groans.

Cor releases his grip on Gladio, so he’s able turns back just in time to see Nyx frantically jerking off. After several seconds, Nyx screws his eyes shut, mouth falling open with a loud moan as he finally comes, too. Gladio feels his ass clench and pulse around his softening cock, and with each pulse comes a rope of come, hot and sticky and covering most of Gladio’s chest—and the expensive, full body leather harness they bought for tonight.

Several long moments pass before Gladio can’t help himself—he starts to laugh, dazed and giddy.

“You might have to hold me up, G,” Nyx says, a breathy chuckle of his own following the words as he lets Gladio’s cock slip from his ass. “Or you, Marshal.”

Cor snorts. Gladio forgets to breathe for several moments as Cor drags one clubbed thumb across Gladio’s face, collecting come along the side of it, and presses it to Gladio’s lips.

Even without the desperate arousal consuming him, even without a command, Gladio takes Cor’s thumb in his mouth and licks that clean, too, gratified by the quiet groan Cor makes when he does. He draws back and rests on his knees next to Gladio; the position might be awkward from another person, but Cor makes it appear natural. He tucks himself back in his jeans, but his eyes scorch a path along Gladio’s skin before cutting to Nyx.

“You always were... informal as a Dom. Hand me a towel?”

“Sure.”

Time blurs. He feels Nyx shift up and off of him, missing the comfort of his weight and warmth, and then sighs at the distant tug of hands at his cock, the pressure of his condom being removed. Gladio closes his eyes, head swimming, and keeps them closed as a cool, damp towel passes over his face. His fragmented thoughts are coming back to him piece by foggy piece. When he opens his eyes, he expects to see Nyx cleaning his face, but instead he finds Cor, expression carefully blank.

“May I kiss you?” Cor asks, head tilted fractionally to one side.

Gladio blinks once, twice, whatever thoughts he’d gathered scattering to the wind once more. He glances at Nyx, who offers a non-commital shrug and a too-smug grin as his only advice.

Fuck it, then.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Gladio says with a confidence he doesn’t feel at all.

Cor kisses in the exact opposite way Gladio expects, softly, his tongue gliding against Gladio’s mouth in a forbearing request for entry. As Gladio parts his lips, he gets the distinct feeling the exchange is both a thank you and a necessity for Cor. It’s a long kiss, warm and deep, Cor’s hand braced against Gladio’s neck as their tongues meet in lazy passes. When they part, Cor makes eye contact, but his expression is inscrutable as he stands up from the couch.

“ _Now_ you’re on your own, Ulric.” A beat. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Nyx gives Cor a wave that can only be described as cheeky. “We should do this again sometime, Marshal.”

“Perhaps,” Cor says thoughtfully, a long gone ghost of a grin passing across his lips before he makes his exit.

Nyx turns his full attention to Gladio. “Well… _that_ was not how I was expecting tonight to go.”

“Me neither. No complaints, though.”

“Yeah, you know, I figured _that_ one out all on my own. Fucking _Six_. I’m almost ready for round two after that display,” Nyx says with a teasing lilt.

Gladio shrugs and grins, fingering the d-ring where his leash is still connected. “You could have said no.”

“You’ve got me there,” Nyx agrees with a laugh. His eyes sparkle with mirth as he meets Gladio’s eyes. “Want some help getting dressed, gorgeous?” he asks with a soft, fond smile, trailing his fingertips up Gladio’s forearm.

Gladio’s about to decline the offer, but he realizes his limbs have turned the same consistency as a gelatinous cube. “That’d be nice.”

From his magic bag of tricks, Nyx produces water, snacks, disposable wipes, and both of their clothes. He’s surprisingly tender as he cleans most of the mess from Gladio’s chest, pausing to stroke his hair or cheek, peppering bare skin with the occasional kiss. At some point, Gladio notes as he lifts his hips so Nyx can finish pulling up his jeans, Nyx re-dressed as well. He gratefully accepts a water bottle as Nyx curls against his side, maneuvering Gladio’s other arm to rest across his shoulders. He’s content to stay like that for a time, letting the ambient noise of the club wash over him. The first time Nyx tries to move, Gladio pulls him back to his side with a strong sweep of his arm and a happy rumble. The second time he reluctantly allows Nyx to bend down and rifle through their shared bag.

When he sits back up, he has Gladio’s shirt in his hand. Before handing it over, Nyx unclips the leash, signaling the end of a very long scene.

“You’re amazing. Love you, G,” Nyx murmurs, pressing a kiss to the broad sweep of Gladio’s shoulder.

“Damn right I’m amazing.” At a sharp raise of eyebrow from Nyx, he grins and adds, “love you too, babe.” It’s so incredibly easy to let all the overwhelming affection he feels for the man beside him shine through the words.

“That’s better.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Although I used my horny Scorpio energy to make this for roads, she gets SO much credit for brainstorming and a lot of the ideas in this piece. Thanks to [Lili](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilium_elendir/pseuds/lilium_elendir) for showing me the light of the 'baby' pet name.
> 
> I realize there's not much coherent to say about this one, but if you feel like leaving a kudos and/or keysmash and/or emoji spam, that'd be awesome.
> 
> Come hang on on [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/AliatoriEra)


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